


[Luke,] I Am Not Your Father

by Xyl_3



Category: Die Hard (Movies)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-22 02:55:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14299233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyl_3/pseuds/Xyl_3
Summary: A lie turns into a joke turns into a date turns into something more





	1. Chapter 1

" _Who is this man_?" Warlock yelled.

Matt had been plenty happy with the "cool dad" angle, but seeing as McClane had blown that lie with his complete lack of cultural knowledge... (Though how he didn't know Boba Fett was an honest mystery. Matt could believe he hadn't sat through the prequels or read the EU, but the Fett was O3, and John had just claimed to _like_ Star Wars. If they survived this weekend, it was Matt's sacred duty to school him on at least the most iconic of characters in the trilogy.) "He's my..."

"Hey, dump truck," McClane butted in, "I'm not his dad, I'm a-"

"Boyfriend!" Matt yelped desperately. The last thing this conversation needed was McClane dropping the cop bomb on the Warlock. "He's my boyfriend, okay? Please, let's not talk about it, we're still working out the-" he cleared his throat, realizing too late where that sentence was going. "The kinks," he finished reluctantly.

Neither McClane nor Warlock let that pass entirely, but Matt soldiered on. "Listen, what we - I - really need is just to know about what Thomas Gabriel is doing with my code. Then we'll get out of your command center and leave you alone."

"Command center?" John scoffed. "It's a basement."

" _Please_ don't help me, McClane," Matt begged.

 " **Thomas Gabriel**." The warlock repeated sarcastically. "That's cool. I didn't know. I'm sorry. Get out! I want you out right now!

"Hey!" John interrupted while the Warlock was still trying to physically push Matt up the stairs and out. "I'l a cop, so why don't you do what I say and help us out."

Matt had only known the guy for a day and he already knew nothing with McClane happened the easy way. There was no good reason he thought they could have gotten out of this without the cop thing coming out.

"You're dating the Fuzz?" Warlock accused.

"No!" Matt denied automatically, before remembering. "Yes! Technically. John is a cop, but it's not like I'm fucking the whole station. He's not here as a cop anyway," Matt justified. "He happened to be over at my place when people started shooting and eventually blew it up. If he hadn't been there I'd be dead. A lot."

"And there wouldn't be any fucking pigs in my command center," Warlock muttered but Matt knew it was mostly just bitching.

John either took offense to something or had gotten tired of waiting because out came the threats and violence. 

Matt gave up.

*

Matt honestly hadn't expected to revisit the lie, but when all the shooting and bleeding was over and Matt was pumped full of drugs, McClane came over to say hi, the conversation got away from him, and Matt indelicately tried to make a pass on his daughter with John as the messenger.

John had growled, which Matt would have expected if his brain was able to process more than two seconds of the future at a time, but the warning ending with "I hope you're not thinking of cheating on me" threw him off.

Matt blinked at him and said in an almost dreamy tone, "No, I definitely wouldn't want to cheat on _you_."

John had smiled, which was still a very smirky expression, and Matt had reached out to touch it, sort of awed that this moment existed in the time-space continuum. "I'm going to make you watch Star Wars," Matt promised devotedly. " _A bunch of times_."

"Pass out already, kid," McClane advised with a little laugh, and tragically shut the doors to the ambulance. "I'll see you at the hospital."

Matt made a sad little sound at the back of his throat, but his disappointment was already fading back into the fog of heavy drugs.

 

***

  
Morphine was not illegal _enough_. Firstly, his leg felt like it would probably hurt less if they had just cut the damn thing off. Secondly, he was probably lucky McClane hadn't finished the job when the drugs got hold of the conversation. He still wasn't sure how it had gone so far down the rabbit hole that they ended up talking about their imaginary relationship.

For all John's gruff hyper-masculine bullshit, Matt was pretty confident he wasn't at all homophobic, but that didn't make Matt immune to his other annoyance factors. Better to focus on _them_ than on Matt hitting on Lucy.

"Still need to work out your kinks?" McClane asked smugly from where he was lounged (probably more like propped) against the hospital doorway. There was no way the man was actually authorized to be up and about, but Matt had actually learned to stop being surprised. Probably sometime after the fucking **missile**.

"Hah," Matt huffed, for a lack of better options. He had, just, _no idea_ what was happening. McClane had always been a little on the flirty side, which was weird because he also radiated heterosexuality. Then again, Matt had also been a little on the flirty side with a dude that radiated heterosexuality and also had a gun, so...

Bad choice city, here in this room.

McClane raised his eyebrows, so apparently he was actually expecting Matt to continue this conversation.

"Uh, no, I- I think I'm clear on my end. 'Coupla surprises might show up in Beta, but shouldn't crash the system." He was rambling, mostly. John probably wouldn't understand a single word, which was only slightly on purpose. "Er, you?"

John smirked. "Got a few that could use a field test."

_Holy-_ "That's, um, that's interesting?" he squeaked and cleared his throat. "I mean good. For you?"

"I think now we're supposed to share them," John prompted, still smugly mocking.

Matt cut him off. "Listen, this has been...confusing, mostly, actually, but also _very_ relevant to my interests, but I am in a hospital with a busted kneecap, and I'm not sure you could stand under your own power right now if you weren't the Terminator, so let's table this alarming and arousing conversation until at least one of us no longer looks like we almost died. Cool? Cool."

John actually cracked a less mean smile, so Matt guessed he was on board.

"Also, we still have to watch Star Wars. I don't think I can spend much more time with someone that doesn't know who Boba Fett is. Please tell me you know Chewbacca, at least. He seems like your type of guy."

"Pretty forward of you, Hack Boy, but I guess it's a date. You, me, my apartment since yours blew up, and thirty year old alien movies."

"Do you even own a TV?" Matt muttered. "Fine," he said louder, "but _you_ started this."

"Oh no, Daisy, this one's all on you." John grinned again.

They were probably going to kill each other, but Matt was kind of looking forward to it.

*


	2. Chapter 2

Matt was not expecting their first date to be him moving into McClane's apartment. He didn't actually own any stuff anymore, so luckily there wasn't a lot of manual labor required. Neither one of them were up for that, although McClane probably would have done it all anyway and goaded Matt into trying (and probably failing) to help.

John did own a TV. And a VHS player, which would work for Star Wars but not forever. He also produced food; glorious, greasy, delicious Italian food that was nothing like what they'd gotten at the hospital. It came with snide comments about Matt's obsession with eating and low blood sugar and his basic preoccupation with the necessities of life, but Matt couldn't even pretend to care.

It was actually a pretty good date. They sat in John's tiny living room, on the unloved couch that would be Matt's new bed, and watched world-class scifi on his shitty box TV while they shoveled food in their faces between commentary and snarky banter.

McClane had, it turned out, watched A New Hope in theaters and then called it Star Wars and also done, and that was why he was so clueless. Matt couldn't even _re_ watch one of the films without a full and immediate marathon, so he didn't know how McClane lasted three decades. Then again, he had no idea how McClane survived anything life threw at him and maybe Matt should just learn to accept these things.

McClane had liked the movies, which was a good sign for their relationship. (Matt wasn't sure if he meant their roomie situation or the fake boyfriend thing that wouldn't die, or if he meant the maybe actual date they were on right now and the relationship that might follow if it went anywhere and was also not just a joke.) Matt thought John might have had _feelings_ about the whole Skywalker family drama and resolution, but a man that didn't get choked up over the bittersweet end of ROTJ was no man at all, in Matt's opinion, so he let it pass unmentioned.

  
*

The date ("date"?) didn't end in a kiss. Matt wasn't really up on old-timey sensibilities, so it was kind of hard to gauge what his goals and expectations should be anyway, but it was harder when there was no clear <date></date> markers. They were two guys who started and finished an activity in the place they lived and slept in and did not separate after the activity was over.

That being said, Matt was pretty sure the date was over when he _fell asleep in the middle of it_. The trilogy had been over and he hadn't wanted to push his luck making McClane watch the prequels yet, so they'd just been talking without the background noise of the tv. The couch wasn't comfortable the way some furniture was, but it wasn't uncomfortable either. Matt had felt relaxed in a way he couldn't rationalize, like he wasn't on a maybe real first date with a guy he had a crush on and also like he'd hadn't recently been shot, kidnapped, and wanted dead.

He'd woken up the next morning with the blanket over him and a pillow under his face. His meds were on the coffee table with a glass of water. It was the sort of thing you might do for someone you _like_ liked, but it maybe it was just good roommate etiquette, or that McClane felt responsible for him. He was pretty sure the flirting wouldn't happen if McClane thought of him less as "a kid" and more as "one of his kids" but since the flirting had started before they actually started getting along, it might be an inside joke thing.

He really hoped it was a like like thing.

He found McClane in the kitchen (not that it was very far away), an honest to god Boombox playing what was probably a cassette of the Eagles. **_The Eagles_**. The volume was at least low enough that the twangy guitar didn't assault his ears the way Creedance had.

It was so domestic it was almost funny. John was humming and swaying to the music and cooking breakfast over the stove like some 50's housewife, only instead of an apron, John had a sling. (McClane was a lot better about recovery than Matt would have imagined, given both the tough guy attitude and his willingness to power through physical obstacles.)

Matt and his crutches were loud and obvious, so he wasn't surprised when McClane turned to him almost immediately.

"Hey, kid. How'd you sleep?"

"Like a rock. Sorry for passing out on you last night."

"Nah, you tipped the other way," John joked, and Matt could only imagine falling asleep actually _on_ McClane. "Sleep's good for healing, even if the old man is the one who's supposed to be in bed by 8."

McClane had tipped over into berserker mode after the second time someone had tried to kill them, and the stress had shown in his voice. The brittleness that Matt hadn't even noticed was completely gone. Now, it was gruff and sarcastic, but also warm and so very steady.

McClane slid the food onto plates. Matt had expected eggs, but these were scrambled with a lot of different stuffed mixed in, like a broken omelette. "Water or juice?"

Matt chose the orange juice. McClane went for cranberry. Everything was surreal.

  
The food was delicious.

  
*

"So," Matt started, because sometimes risks are terrible ideas you regret for years, but sometimes taking a risk is how you save the country. "I think falling asleep during our last date was maybe not how they're supposed to go. Do over?"

"No," McClane said placidly.

"Oh," Matt said blankly. Apparently this would be the former.

"We can try a second date though."

Matt knew he liked the man, but he wasn't expecting the rush of relief that followed those words. He might be in deeper than he'd thought.

"You're a horrible person," he noted.

John just shrugged. "I already knew you had terrible taste."

"Oh!" Matt scoffed, ready to _go_. "You, Mister old music, news radio, **jogging** man, know something about _taste_?"

McClane's eyes dropped to his lips. His _lips_. That goddamn **troll**!

Matt was tempted to just kiss him then, but he was a hacker. Hackers knew how to be patient for the sake of revenge.

John said something back about Matt's taste, but Matt didn't need to pay attention to keep talking shit. He had a date to plan.

*


	3. Chapter 3

 

Going out into the world was still terrible on a lot of levels, but Matt knew how to work the system. He ordered flowers for himself, asked them to text when they got there instead of knocking, and got himself ready.

Matt had about five changes of clothes and none of them said "fancy." Luckily Matt wasn't looking for fancy. He wished he knew what McClane was attracted to besides his mouth, but he just put on something clean and made sure his hair wasn't doing anything outrageous. Then he put on some chapstick, because there was no reason not to press an advantage.

The text came through and Matt stepped into the hall to collect his flowers, closing the door behind him. Once the delivery girl had left, he turned and knocked on the door.

"Farrell?" John asked when he opened the door. "It was unlocked. Why are you knocking?"

Matt offered the flowers very pointedly. "I'm here for our date."

McClane raised his eyebrows at him and did not take the flowers.

Matt wiggled them. "Take the flowers, McClane. They're for your kitchen."

John obliged, starting to look a little amused. "You shouldn't have," he quoted flatly.

Matt laughed. "Get out of my way, asshole. I thought you old guys were supposed to have manners."

"Kids these days," John complained lazily, clearly getting into the spirit of this date. If bitching and mocking was how John flirted, (and all signs said it was) Matt had this one in the bag.

John more hauled Matt through the doorway by the scruff of his neck than got out of his way, but Matt wasn't complaining. John had been pushing Matt around basically since they first met and he'd gotten used to it. It might even go on his list of new, McClane inspired kinks.

  
*

This date was a different kind of comfortable than the last. Instead of a peaceful bubble surrounding the two of them, they were steeped in a weird aura of competitive congeniality. It was like they were on one of those sketch shows where they each had scripts they were supposed to follow but also subvert for maximum effect. It was fun and easy and they were both on the same page about what was happening. John's eyes were hot on him as the man sat wide-legged and indolent in his armchair and made completely idle small talk.

Matt let himself get caught looking as he replied in kind, talking about the weather and the city and his day.

There was something decadently wasteful about this inanity, because on a purely objective level, they didn't actually know that much about each other. He knew _pieces_ of McClane - the scars left by his marriage as well as by the bad guys, his tenacity, the guy that came out when the shit hit the fan, the things he'd do for his family - but very few _facts_. He didn't know his friend's names or his favorite color or where he'd grown up. He didn't know if John had any other family or if he'd ever wanted to be anything other than a cop. He didn't know if there'd been anyone since Holly of if McClane had ever considered a guy before.

None of it really seemed relevant to their relationship. He could learn those things as they came up, but he knew he liked John McClane, and liked how they were when they were together, and this time around, he knew John felt the same way.

The conversation turned to the food, and favorite foods, and worst food experiences, and all the while, the easy sexual tension remained.  
*

"Can I walk you to your door?" Matt offered once the food was gone and the current topic was winding down.

John humored him and accepted the direction toward his bedroom door.

"Wanna come in?" John offered, still easy.

Matt mustered up some fake offense. "On the second date, John? I don't know _where_ you got the impression I'm easy."

McClane huffed out a laugh but didn't push it. "Guess I'll have to see you again."

"Guess you might."

John rolled his eyes and leaned way into Matt's space. "I had a real nice time, Matty," he breathed, and finally kissed him.

It was slow, polite, nothing like what he'd fantasized about and yet it was so goddamn good. It was easy, in a way nothing between them should logically be and yet everything innately was. This kiss was a dare, not a fight, and it was devastating.

Then John pulled back, still sweet, and went inside.

*

Matt stared at the door John had just disappeared behind and wondered why he'd turned down sex he was _beyond_ ready for just to give John a taste of his own medicine. Now he'd have to hobble back to his own area to jerk off while John was mere feet away doing-

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

He opened the door warily.

"I don't suppose you'd be up for having our third date now," John offered.

"Well if it's the _third_ date," Matt justified, and happily stepped inside for another kiss, "I guess I can put out."


End file.
